Now that we know who President-elect Donald Trump’s nominee for U.S. secretary of education is, we’re likely going to see a continuation of the side-choosing and identity politics that has riven our country apart for too many years. Why would this time be any different?
There are, of course, reasons to be deeply concerned about Trump’s espoused education agenda. I’m most frightened of a continued decline in the U.S. Department of Education’s office for civil rights’ enforcement role in schools. But I happen to have some limited experience interacting with Linda McMahon that might be instructive.
When I was superintendent of schools in Stamford, Conn., from 2005 to 2011, I had occasion to interact with McMahon a few times, as the WWE, the World Wrestling enterprise, is headquartered there. She came by my office to meet me when I first started, and we saw each other at various events. I found her to be thoughtful and inquisitive. Unlike other local corporate leaders, she didn’t express a distinct policy perspective or position about how to run our complex and diverse system of 20 schools and more than 15,000 students.
I always got the impression that she understood that local leaders have the right and responsibility—and perhaps even the expertise—to run the system without too much interference from the peanut gallery.
My interactions with McMahon were admittedly limited, and I can’t speak to her current policy positions. Yet, I wonder if they point to a direction forward as school system leaders confront the inevitable polemics of the second Trump presidency. It seems to me that at the local level, now is the time more than ever to focus on shared interests.
When I was a young administrator, I was trained in interest-based negotiations. Getting to Yes: Negotiating Agreement Without Giving In by Roger Fisher and William Ury was all the rage back then. The superintendent, who was also my mentor, was committed to the book’s approach, which enabled us to get stuff done in service of young people. When I became the superintendent in Montgomery County, Md., in 2011, the school board, administration, and employee association leaders had also invested significantly in the approach. It enabled us to make difficult decisions focused on the collective good of our community. I suspect it’s a way forward now.
Essentially, interest-based decisionmaking focuses on why you want something, not what you want. There’s a value to your position. Let’s take class size, the third rail of budget negotiations for superintendents. Everyone likes small class sizes, and there’s no shortage of advocates who claim during public budget hearings that smaller classes are the panacea for all that ails the system.
Despite the limited research confirming the value of small classes, superintendents can find themselves in a debate about 28 vs. 24 kids. Then they have to find the money to fund the reduction. They often find that it can only be done in a limited way, perhaps in early-childhood classes or ones with lots of vulnerable kids. And then the next year, the debate happens all over again when the coffers are depleted.
People want smaller class sizes because they think it’s going to give them something they value. More individual attention. Less noise and fewer discipline problems. Reasonable workloads. There’s nothing wrong with small class sizes (although some teachers I’ve talked to don’t want them to be too small as it limits opportunities for peer collaboration—but that’s another story). However, rather than debate the merits of 28 vs. 24 students, why not focus the conversation on the shared interests underlying the positions?
It’s hard to disagree with teachers having reasonable workloads and students receiving appropriate individualized attention. Yet, there are other ways to achieve that collective aim. Moreover, by focusing on why we want what we want, perhaps we can all realize that what binds us together as Americans is greater than what tears us apart.
As superintendents determine how they’ll lead in the new Trump era, I believe that there’s an opportunity for them to do just that: lead—by example.
First, and let me be absolutely clear, there is no room or excuse for bad behavior among students or staff. Contrary to the actions of some elected officials, bullying of LGBTQ+ kids, immigrants, kids of color, or anyone else is inexcusable. Violating anyone’s civil rights, staying silent in the face of antisemitism, or limiting opportunities is also unacceptable.
So, too, is painting with a broad brush anyone whose political opinions may differ from one’s own.
Superintendents have a unique role within their communities. They are the standard-bearers for how we want children to be treated so that they can thrive in an increasingly complex world. The old adage of “it takes a village” rings as true today as ever. We have to lean into our local communities, and superintendents are poised to do that by inviting stakeholders into conversation about shared values and interests.
We all want our children to be happy. We want them engaged. We want them reading and doing mathematics on grade level. We want opportunities for enrichment and acceleration. We want them to make the world a better place, even if that sometimes feels like a naive and elusive goal.
There is no doubt in my mind that come January, lots of people in lots of schools and communities will double down on their positions. They’ll see the actions of others through the lens of their own identities, politics, and outrage. I don’t imagine that Linda McMahon will play healer-in-chief in the way that many superintendents do every day. But I also know that the limited example she offered me when I was in the seat—one that focused on our shared interests in improving our community’s schools—could point to a collective path forward.
